


Maybe Someday

by fullmoonrisin



Category: The 100
Genre: #grief, #legacy, #maybe someday, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:54:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoonrisin/pseuds/fullmoonrisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments from Clarke's life after Lexa's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Someday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clexa fans everywhere!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Clexa+fans+everywhere%21).



> Hey there guys! I just wanted to say that I'm not actually part of t100 or the Clexa fandom, but in light of recent events I wanted to give a little bit back to you guys. Because, let's face it, we all know that Lexa did deserve better. So, I've caught up on t100 and all the Clexa scenes and this is the first in a series of fix-it fics/Clexa tribute fics that I have planned. I hope y'all enjoy! Be warned: this first one is hella angst.

4 Seconds-

Clarke is a sobbing wreck as she leans over the body of the fallen Heda. Her Commander. Her Lexa. Titus tries to reason with her; tell her he needs to complete the ritual, but his pleas fall on deaf ears and he is forced to guide her away from the bedside.

Clarke wants to fight, scream, anything to make this waking nightmare end, but her body is lead and her voice has gone away. All that's left is a pain in her heart that feels like several hot knives skewering her chest. She knows that she'd gladly endure death by a thousand cuts many times over if it would erase this feeling.

Titus' own broken voice relieving Lexa of her mantle is just another knife in Clarke's chest.

4 Minutes-

She stands transfixed in the same spot she's been in since watching the Titus remove the "spirit" from Lexa's body. There is blood…so much blood. The blackness stains the furs on the bed so deeply that she doubts they'll be useful for anything but burning…and her hands. She looks down at the drying blood caking itself into the crevasses of her hands and fingers and feels bile begin to rise in her throat.

Murphy tries to urge Clarke to move. Somewhere in some forgotten part of her mind, she knows they have to, but she can't seem to bring herself to act. The only place she wants to go right now has been rendered impossible by a stray bullet and she's still trying to process the injustice of that.

In that moment as she stands there and stares at the black blood that seems to have dripped onto everything around her, Clarke wants nothing more than to go back to an hour ago. An hour ago, there was a war looming; one she still has to face even now. An hour ago, Lexa was dealing with growing dissent among the clans. But an hour ago, Lexa was still alive and a hundred "may we meet agains" didn't seem as daunting as this life where she was suddenly condemned to the cruelest one of all.

4 Hours-

Clarke and Murphy are on their way back to Arkadia on the fastest horses that Titus was able to initially arrange for herself and Octavia. She could've extended her stay through the conclave…made up some excuse to her people, but the surroundings of Polis had become increasingly unbearable with each passing minute and she wasn't sure how safe she was there without Lexa. The memory of riding away from the city and knowing she'd never ride back to her Commander's reception would haunt her almost as much as the vision of Lexa's blood soaking the bedding.

Curious as he is, Murphy has the good sense not to say anything. He'd witnessed Clarke's heartbreak as she fell apart over the corpse of the other woman and decided that respectful silence was best. Clarke silently thanks him for that.

The stream of quiet tears seems to flow more steadily down her face with each gallop her horse makes away from the place where she'd been happy. Her eyes are looking forward to the war ahead, but her mind and heart are on Polis…on Lexa.

It's been four hours and Clarke can still taste the goodbye on her lips.

4 Days-

They make it back to Arkadia with just enough time to spare before the kill order goes into effect. Clarke doesn't notice when Murphy stops following her, doesn't pay attention to Pike's barked demands for attention (he'll get all the attention he deserves from Wanheda later). She doesn't notice as she moves through the halls that Octavia is nowhere to be seen. She's got tunnel vision and there's only one person she wants to see.

She finds her mother in the med bay and Abby is quick to take in her daughter's disheveled, broken appearance as well as the lingering vestiges of black on the younger woman's hands. She doesn't have time to raise a question before Clarke all but falls into her mother's arms and held back sobs come out in force. Whatever resentment still exists between them after all these months is put aside as Abby tries desperately to calm her daughter, yet…she knows these cries.

Grief.

As Clarke's sobs finally calm enough for her mother to question her, she is suddenly reminded of Finn's death and all the blood on her hands, except this time it's black. She finds herself desparately scrubbing at her hands in an attempt to wash away the blood that will never come off, Lexa's phantom blood, as she utters only three words:

"Heda is dead."

The implication hits Abby hard—both for her daughter and for the 13th clan.

It's four days since and Clarke is still barely functional. She maintains the appearance of Wanheda around the camp, but in private she feels so fragile. Sleep never does come easily. After all that time sleeping in Polis the Arkadia bedding is uncomfortable to her, and the stillness of night allows her mind to wander back to her grief. She's not eating much either, but she's pretty sure only her mom has actually noticed. When she isn't observing Pike and planning his destruction, Clarke restlessly roams the halls of a place she used to call home. Familiar people are all strangers and most of them treat her differently since she returned from Polis, and everywhere she turns she thinks she sees a glimpse of that familiar braided brunette hair just beyond her reach.

These people are still her people, but this place is no longer home. She doesn't know where home is anymore.

4 Weeks-

Almost a month later, Clarke travels to the City of Light. It is there that she sees Lexa one more time. The reunion is all at once expected and a surprise and it seems all too brief once it is over. Lexa helps her to destroy ALIE along with the City of Light and she is left with reopened wounds from a second loss and with Lexa's parting words ringing in her ears.

"I'll always be with you."

And Clarke finds over time that it's true. She learns to remember Lexa and honor her legacy in small ways here and there. She dons the former Heda's familiar war paint in battle and she takes inspiration from Her Commander when making the tough decisions. There are times through the years when "What would Lexa do?" becomes something like a mantra for Clarke.

It's also around this time that the Skaikru's internal conflict comes to a head and Pike is killed by his own bodyguards. The rest of his followers attempt to flee but are quickly detained and for the first time in four weeks Clarke feels like she's taken a step toward peace.

4 Months

For the first time since the conclave, Clarke and her people are back in Polis. Commander Aden has called a summit to officially reinstate Skaikru as the 13th clan. Clarke finds herself in much the same position as last time. There is even something familiar and warm behind Aden's boyish eyes, Clarke notes as she kneels before him; something that tells her Lexa isn't far away.

The change in Heda is not the only thing different about the occasion. Clarke's efforts and leadership during the revolt against Pike have earned her the position of Chancellor, though she suspects this has more to do with the other two candidates opting out of re-election in favor of a life with less politics.

So, Clarke kneels for Heda Aden's speech. Thankfully, this summit goes by with just as much pomp and circumstance as the last and none of the interruption. There is a moment where she swears she hears it…her voice. It echoes words from that distant war with the mountain people.

"You were born for this, Clarke." And she feels Lexa's presence—her warmth—all around her and in Aden's perceptive gaze. It is a cold comfort, but a comfort nonetheless to feel so close to her missing half for the first time in ages.

When all is said and done and Clarke has bowed before Heda and excepted the brand, she turns to leave the summit room when his voice, tinged with gently familiar shades calls her back. He bows at the waist to Wanheda as a final gesture of his loyalty.

4 Years

Clarke has come a long way in just a few short years, continuing to negotiate peace with the other clans and with Heda to help usher in the new era that she'd just started with Lexa years ago when that bullet ended it. And in a way, Lexa has become something of a phantom limb. The pain has numbed and she's no longer of this world, but Clarke keeps her close always. She feels her with every breath she takes and every choice she makes as a leader.

She hasn't seen Lexa since the City of Light. There are times, however, when Clarke has a few close calls on the battlefield, and in those moments, she hears Lexa again. As she teeters on that brink between life and death and Skaikru's best doctors work to save her, she hears the same voice that called out to her during the summit. It speaks as if trying to pull her from the mouth of death.

"Your fight is not over yet, Clarke."

This time is different and she feels it. Her mom seems to know it too and she works feverishly to stem the blood loss as she pleads with her daughter to fight. Clarke doesn't hear the words and she feels some force calling out to her; something compelling her to go. Her vision is blurred and her breath is labored but she manages a final "may we meet again" before everything goes black.

The darkness lasts for only a moment and Clarke's eyes open to a sight she hasn't seen in four years. It's her. 

Lexa.

She lets out a disbelieving sob and blinks several times at the other woman who stands with a full grin on her face and her face clean of its signature war paint as she dons a garment similar to the nightgown she wore that night she visited Clarke's room. Clarke can't bear the distance anymore and races into Lexa's open arms as the tears stream wildly down her face.

Do souls even cry?

She's pretty sure that she is a soul and she is crying right now, but at least she's finally got her face buried in that sea of brunette hair. It feels like a lifetime since they've been together and neither can help how tightly they cling.

Lexa smiles over the top of Clarke's head through her own tears, speaking the words that she'd denied her a few times before.

"Yu gonplei ste odon, Klark kom Skaikru."

And amid the euphoria induced fog of this reunion, they both know that this is the someday that Clarke spoke of years ago. They finally owe nothing more to their people. And though their time was cut short once before, they will never be apart again.


End file.
